


What Wouldn't I Do For You

by Llb_143



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Downward Spiral, Grief/Mourning, Harry is a Good Friend, Harry loves his twins, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Multi, Out of Character, Past Character Death, Protect Harry Potter, References to Depression, Temporary Character Death, and an even better boyfriend, he's a cinnamon roll, i think, probably, soft and sweet, the sacrifice scene isnt overly graphic, the warning is there just in case im wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 05:56:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16299419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llb_143/pseuds/Llb_143
Summary: A permitted continuation to Ithral's And Down Came The Rain."What wouldn't I do, for you?I'd bite the bullet and the gun tooWhat would you have me do?To prove just how much, I love you"





	What Wouldn't I Do For You

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [And Down Came The Rain](https://archiveofourown.org/works/765034) by [Ithral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithral/pseuds/Ithral). 



> There is a TW that I have outlined in the story if any kind of selfharm is triggering for you then feel free to skip over it, that should be the only triggering section though. This story is inspired by Ithral's 'And Down Came The Rain', kind of a spin off of it, with a less cliff-hanger of an ending.  
> Hopefully you enjoy!

Harry Potter’s life began in a time of heartache and war, but despite this, he was well loved. His worries were nonexistent, his heart full, and his cheeks dimpled. Lily and James Potter never lacked in love and care for their son, and for two years in hiding, life was good. But then as everyone in the wizarding world now knows, his world changed and his parents and happy life were murdered.  


Since then, life had been anything but easy for him. Love was not something freely given, or happily enjoyed. Until Hogwarts he was the outsider to a world of what seemed to be loving families. Emotionally abused, physically malnourished, Harry arrived at Hogwarts with small hope that this would change everything. Hagrid liked him, he’d had to remind himself, and Hagrid said he was important, that other people would like him too. He’d kept this in mind as he was sorted and when the house suggested Slytherin, he’d remembered the rude spoiled boy who’d insulted Harry’s first friend, and assuming that was how all of his house would be begged out of it. He begged to be put in the House of the Brave, where the kind, loving family of redheads were sorted.  


‘I just want to belong.’ He’d pleaded and the hat had given in to him, calling out GRYPHINDOR for all to hear. This started a long path of love and hate from all of Hogwarts. All Harry wanted was love. He wanted to be wanted, but not like this. He didn’t want fans, he didn’t need fame or glory, he just wanted to be wanted for himself for once. Out of that came the twins. When all else failed to help him, he could count on a twin to pop up and remind him to smile. When the Twi-wizard tournament came, the twins took to pranking anyone being overly mean to him, specifically a red head filled with jealousy. They slipped him hints about upcoming tasks, or what he would find useful in what he had to face when he couldn’t figure anything out, and publically supported him as the Champion they wanted to win. After winning, they’d gathered him up and hidden him away to allow him to grieve, barely accepting the prize money he’d no use for the next day, sticking closer still to him for it.  


He’d fallen in love with them recklessly, supporting them fully with their joke store. So when they’d had enough the next year of Umbridge, finding out the women had been hurting him, and chosen to leave school and open the shop, He’d helped them find a good location and set up an account for them to use separate from the ones their parents could control and bid them goodbye for now. Later that year when Harry ended up near the Joke store he’d wandered in and been offered a new treat to try. Trusting the twins full-heartedly, he’d just sighed jokingly and popped it in his mouth. When he’d opened his mouth to ask what it was supposed to do, and a bubble came out he’d been filled with confusion, that is until he saw the words written in it.  


‘I’m in love with twins’ the words had said, so Harry turned around and walked out, face a bright red. The twins had caught him at the door, Fred wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist, while George closed and locked the door to the shop down.  


He’d given them hell about it the next morning , when he’d woken up sore, and realized they’d known it would do that, but after several conversations, and another night together he’d succumbed to the new feelings. For the first time he had two people loving him for more than who his parents were, how he was supposed to be, or what his name was. Not one to take anything good for granted, he’d loved them with his whole heart. They discovered their soul bond and the relationship had been everything to Harry. It gave him the strength to go on, training and fighting for what they believed in. They gave him strength to face his death, and strength to battle the Dark Lord.  


But of course, like all good things for Harry, it broke, and sent him into the dark again. With the victory over the Dark side, came the losses of those dear to them. Fred Weasley was one of said losses, and with his death came the comatose of his twin George.  


knew through the whole relationship that the two twins came first, without him they were fine and could survive and be happy, but without a twin? To take one of the two boys out of the equation had always meant you lost both. They were two halves of the same soul, while Harry was just the outsider they’d chosen as their match. There was no space with one twin without the other, he’d accepted that he would always come second in the relationship, because he’d take what love he could get from his soul mates.  


When the loss of Fred hit them, it hit hard. Harry wasn’t an outsider involved in something wonderful and beautiful, but a shadow of his old self, trying to be strong and take care of the remaining half of his twins. But George’s grief and mourning twisted into something bitter and angry. Even now, as Harry tried to channel his hard earned Oclomancy skill into shutting the memory down, he could still hear, clear as day Georges quiet mutters.  


"Why Fred? Why’d it have to be him? Why couldn’t it have been Harry?" Those were the words the man had muttered into what was thought to be an empty room.  


Harry had tried to ignore it, knowing it was just words of grief that George hadn’t meant. He’d tried to pretend it hadn’t even been said, but no matter what he did he just couldn’t. As the weeks flew by, even Malfoy had noticed his declining state, and how quiet he had become. Yet nobody had gotten the hint, life ceased to have meaning with Fred’s passing and George’s mourning.  


But now, now it was broken, shattered and destroyed, no reparo could fix it, or glue put it back together. There was no Gred and Forge nor Harry and Twins, there was George and there was Harry and death was on the horizon. Then came that day, where like normal, Harry had gone to check up on George. He’d needed to give him his daily potions and cast the necessary spells, he was surprised to find his old lover sitting up in bed and reading a book.  


At first glance, he’d believed maybe the man had made a change for the better, and this could be a good start to healing. A closer look proved that belief false, as he’d read the title of the large, thin black and grey book George had held. 'Dark Arts Necromancy Edition 4/5; Legend or Myth: The Master of Death and Sacrificial Practices’. He hadn’t thought his broken heart could break farther as he twisted his ring around his pointer finger and left.  


Later that night, after George, drugged with a dreamless sleep potion, drifted into sleep, Harry slipped into the room quietly. He took the book and brushed a kiss against Georges head, leaving to put the book in his trunk. He would do anything to protect George from making a mistake that could cost him his precious soul, or could bring anything back that would do more harm than good.  


At first he’d put the book to the side without a thought, doubting he could get any good ideas from a random book George had found in the library. But something had struck him about the title, when he noticed it in his trunk several weeks later. He’d glanced through it briefly before finding a solution that would fix everything. There, in the book four section, under the undecided category, a theory was written, about how in the old days the Master of Death, or Death alone could bring back the dead, though it weakened them due to the process. However, this was never proven to work, due to the highly likely sacrifice of the beings own life and or magic for another human or creature. Even now, there wasn’t a single human soul alive that knew Harry himself was the Master of Death, even though he had broken the wand and tossed it away, he found that later after all was done and over with, it appeared into his trunk, fully fixed. He was confused, but grateful when he found his old wand refused to work with him anymore.  


It took three months for the preparations, during which Harry prepared for his own possible demise, setting up his wills and though they had yet to realize it, saying his goodbyes to his friends. While doing this, George became more of a shell than it was thought was possible, mechanically eating his food but all other functions he ceased bar sleep. A constant bladder relieving spell was in place as otherwise George would lay in his own muck without care, a cleansing charm applied twice a day. It broke Harry's heart that his love wasn't recovering, wasn't allowing them to mourn together as they should have been able to, but soon, soon all would be right. If not in the world they used to be in all three together, than in the world that belonged to the twins he loved.  


As the clock struck 3:00am on the thirty first of October, the day of all big happenings in the world of Harry Potter, Harry would not be found in the Burrow. In the moments prior instead he had apparated himself and George into their room in Godrics Hallow, the place where they had first made love when sober and confessed their feelings truthfully. Where now Harry Potter kissed an unresponsive George Weasley’s forehead and quietly parted from his skin, a quiet whisper brushed against his skin.  


“I’ll fix it my heart; no longer will you need to wonder why it wasn’t Harry instead.” His voice was low and sorrowful, and he stepped back, wrapping his protection riddled cloak around George’s shoulders. He stepped into the ‘circle’ he had prepared (i.e. engraved deeply into the floors) previously, cloak, and stone in separate corners of the outer triangle, and Fred Weasley’s wand at the very top corner, where the lines in the floor were much deeper than the rest. After stripping off his shirt, shoes and trousers, Harry lays a letter, and a pensieve, on top of the shed items off to the side, easily seen. Then, in the very middle of the design Harry lays down, across the deep center line of the deathly hallows symbol. His body is covered by a pair of light boxers, transfigured to be as close to the material of the invisibility cloak as possible in order to help further along the ritual.  


He’d done the research, prepared himself once more for his death; he’d spoken one last time through the resurrection stone, to see the people he needed the strength from. He’d contemplated bringing Fred back, but if he shared that viewpoint which his twin had picked up, Harry didn’t think he could survive long enough to do this for his twins, his heart and soul’s chosen ones. So now here he was, ready to sacrifice himself without fear. For his twins he would do anything, his twins couldn’t live without each other, but Harry? Harry couldn’t live without them.  


Grasping the Elder wand tightly, Harry focused all of his mind, his magic, and his heart into his wishes. His entire being was pushed into his words, as he lifted his right hand up to press the tip of his wand to the inside of his left elbow.  
“I, Harry James Potter-Black as Master of Death itself, do give my life, my soul, my magic and my very existence on every known and unknown plane, in exchange for the life of my hearts chosen, Frederick Gideon Weasley.”  
\-------POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING-------  
As soon as he finishes the words he quietly speaks an altered version of the curse ‘Sectumsempra’. He slides the glowing red tip of his wand slowly down his arm to the wrist, the deep wound instantly swelling with blood and runs down his arm, quickly dripping down and filling the carvings in the floor, an identical line appearing down his right arm as he struggles through the pain to speak the spell once more, marking a thick, long deathly hallows symbol into his chest as he lays the now bloody wand down the center of his chest and lays his arms down, chanting the same words again as the carved divots fill with the blood and a weak and pain ridden Harry’s eyes slip closed, the steadily growing gleam from the symbol below him going unnoticed, as does the worried cries and body that appears under his head as he slips into unconsciousness.  
\-------TW OVER----

 

Frederick Gideon Weasley realizes how much he absolutely hates being dead and not being able to communicate even with how close he really is, the second he hears the words spoken by his grief-stricken git of a brother. A small part of him understands, knows his twin, the other half of his soul, is feeling like half a being, but also knows that if the situations were reversed, Fred would never say anything that would imply he wished it was Harry that died instead of his brother, let alone refused his comfort in their shared grief. Their Harry was as self-sacrificing and insecure as they came, and George knew that. Perhaps they hadn’t quiet realized how much though, Fred muses sadly, watching as the soul that matched his and his brothers combined halves completely, fizzled into rejection and loss, not knowing what to do.  


He’s stuck close to Harry, knowing that he would be the one that needed watching more so than George, after those foul words from Fred’s brother. He’s heard him talk in his sleep, heard him talk and allow an auto-quill to write down what he needed them to know if he succeeded. Fred knows now how inadequate, how out of place Harry had felt, how strongly Harry believed he was unneeded, and that they could function with losing their chosen mate. They had never realized how in the dark they had left their lover in, about how much they needed him, so he wouldn’t know that it was Harry’s constant presence that left George alive at all, let alone in as ‘good’ for lack of a proper word, as a state as he was in comparison to what he would be without both of them.  


When Harry creates a will, and says secret unheard goodbyes with everyone, and uses his ring to call people to him, Fred knows. He knows why he isn’t one of those brought back. Harry doesn’t want to get the same responses he gets from George, doesn’t want the second of his partners to make him shoulder the blame, the shame of not doing enough, not being enough. . He understands but wishes harry had just called him, so he could tell him how wrong he was, about how important he is and how badly losing him would damage the twins. Fred had no doubts that he would be brought back, his Harry would be able to do it if anyone could, but for putting the idea and book into his reach, Fred curses his brother loudly as death approaches his side. 

The being looks as amused as a strange not quite skeletal face can look, as it hears him, before Deaths face grows darker at the site of the only Pure, Selfless Master to ever be fully accepted by all of the three items dubbed by humans as the Deathly Hallows. The boy is in the midst of his final chant, blood sinking from his body, and as the grooves fill Death turns to the sickly looking ginger boy his master cherished enough to sacrifice himself for. Death speaks quickly, voice a low wavy hiss.  


“My Master is worth more than this.” It glares and watches the boy nod, tears welling and bursting from his eyes, down his cheeks as he watches his mate. Death sighs and nods.  


“You will make sure that twin of yours becomes someone who could be worth my master, and until that time of which I say he is worthy, you don’t get my master. Or I suppose to put it more... accurately, he, doesn’t get my master. Now go, before I change my mind and take my master somewhere he can be appreciated as the precious being he is.” Death moves the boy to the top of its symbol and shoves the boy, watching as he appears in the glow of his master’s magic, scrambling to fix the slowly healing figure of Harry Potter. Death after all, would not take the life of his first true master so easily.  


George Fabian Weasley hasn’t been fully present in the real world in months. So when he wakes from his self-induced mental hiding, it’s sudden and jolting. Emotions flit through his body, confusion at the jolt, and a sudden feeling of being complete coursing through him, and finally terror and shock. His first fully seen sight is of Harry Potter bleeding out on his floor, but seconds after his eyes jolt to the red head that has just popped into existence at the top of the carvings in the floor, and a gasped choke of his twins name comes out and the red head looks up long enough to send him a glare that floors him.  


He’s seen that look directed at people like Draco Malfoy after he pushed Harry off of his broom during a Quidditch match and the boy had almost died would it not have been for Fred and George. He’d also seen it directed at Umbridge after discovered the scars cut deep into Harry’s hand in fifth year , but never had he seen it directed at him. Just as quickly as he sees it the other boy looks back down and attempts to try and fix the broken boy on the floor presumably with the healing spells he knows, calling his name, hands fluttering around the body. George himself is frozen, trying to put together what’s happening, how he’s seeing Fred when his twin died months ago.

Fred is pissed. He’s calmed his panic as he sees the self-inflicted wounds of the boy slowly closing, blood sinking into his body as if the whole process was reversed. But the lack of panic leaves behind fear of the words of death, and anger at George for everything. He hears George clear his throat to talk and looks up at him.  


“Don’t even open your mouth to say a bloody word” Fred snarls, the protective, ‘you’ve wronged my person’ glare taking over his face. “I’m going to talk, and you, dear idiotic twin of mine, are going to bloody well listen and get your head out of your arse.” He continues, ignoring the hurt look on his almost mirror images face.  


“You’ve gone barmy mate, and you’ve been an absolute tosser to my little Harry here. Notice I said my, because after how you’ve treated him since I died, you don’t deserve to even be his friend, let alone chosen by his heart. His selfless, too big for this world, heart.” Fred lets out a sigh, brushing a hand through Harry’s hair.  


“He spent so long trying to help you, even after you decided to be a daft git and say anything along the lines of wishing it was him who died rather than me. He killed himself for US, hell more so for YOU! So he could give you what you wanted even as you absolutely made his self-esteem worse than it already was. Merlin what were you thinking George!?” He snapped eyes watering.  


“ I…” George starts to speak, clambering out of the bed and tumbling onto the floor as he scrambles to get over to them weakly.  


“Right, you weren’t thinking about anything, about anyone but yourself.” Fred’s words pause George in his tracks as he lets out a sharp gasp and starts to cry, eyes locked on Harry as he fully sees what he’d done to the suddenly tiny looking boy.  


Once upon a time Harry had been getting over the abuse of his relatives, flourishing under the magic and love of the soulmate bond they’d discovered and completed. He’d stayed no taller than just over five foot five inches tall, but became more muscle than just the unhealthy skin and bone he had been originally. His eyes shined brighter, his hair darkening and becoming slightly more tamable, especially if it was a twin fixing it for him.  


But as all of Harry’s life had gone, the fairytale ended. His Fred was gone, and his George while physically there was emotionally and mentally gone as well, and it had reversed his success. While still the same height, his eyes went dull, hair growing wildly and becoming a mess of untamed twists as he lobbed it all off every day. His hard earned muscle disappeared, as bones began to show through, the beginnings of his cheek bones beginning to show through his skin, tear tracks stained to his cheeks. Above all of this, where his wounds had finally healed there now were deep scars.  


As George watched, horrified at himself, he saw Harry’s skin started to expand, bones becoming hidden again, skin becoming more than an ashy grey white, hair growing to Harry’s shoulders as it straightened out and darkened once again. His eyes opened in a split second, glowing a bright green. Slowly the light grew until George was forced to look away, and the second he looked back he saw Harry sit up with a confused expression, eyes a bright dazzling AK green. He looked down at himself for a second before Fred let out a quiet mumble of Harry’s name, to which Harry’s eyes immediately went to him and a confused but small smile lit up his face.  


Harrison James Potter was thoroughly confused. His body pulsed with a small thrum of pain, and he saw scars on the inside of his arm, that if looked at close enough , looked to have a thin lining of gold through it, and hummed with magic. He looked over himself briefly, noticing he looked healthier than he had been even after Fred’s help and guidance in getting better. He heard a quiet mumble of his name and looked up, and noticing Fred, while still very confused he let a small smile show. He would never be able to not smile at the man, he was his best friend. Though now he felt a twinge of something different trying to pry its way out of the back of his mind and he shoved it down, not wanting more confusion.  


“Fred,” Harry breaths relieved at a familiar face. “What in the bloody hell happened?” He asks hesitantly, slowly moving a slightly sore arm over to run a finger down on of the long scars. He’s so distracted by the golden line for a moment, that it takes a minute to realize Fred hadn’t answered him. He looks back up, eyebrows furrowed, and sees a watery eyed ginger in front of him just staring. “Fred? C’mon mate what’s wrong? Last I remember I was going to come over and ask you, Ron, and Ginny if you wanted to play some Quidditch, but obviously that’s not what happened. Where are we anyway? W-” Harry pauses when in the process of looking around the room he sees another Ginger. One who looks exactly like his favorite one. He knows his mouth is probably gaping open in shock, and he points a finger at the man blinking in confusion. “Fred…Is this one of your new pranks? Having a temporary clone? If so, than you’re even more bloody brilliant than I thought you were, and I totally want to try it.” Harry mumbles looking between the two. 

Fred is happy at first. Well, he was also very confused yes, but happy all the same. His Harry is back and healthy and remembers his name, and his twin, while idiotic, seems to be functioning fine. As Harry talks to him all he can do is stare, tears bubbling up as his chosen runs his finger down one of his sacrificial wounds. That is until Harry continues talking, and makes mention of his two youngest siblings, but no mention of George slips out. He is abruptly thrown back into the memory of deaths words.  


“You will make sure that twin of yours becomes someone who could be worth my master, and until that time of which I say he is worthy, you don’t get my master. Or I suppose to put it more... accurately, he, doesn’t get my master.” Fred remembers death saying, realizing what he must have meant. 

Dread fills him as Harry sees his twin and looks between the two of them, face completely shocked. He doesn’t even have to look to see his twins face break, as Harry asks if George is a prank.  
“Harry, love, this is George, my-my twin?” He winces, seeing Harry’s face twist.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! I know its kind of a mess, but i myself like it. I loved 'And Down Came The Rain' but I hate sad ends/ sad cliffhangers, and i was so sad that I just started writing. Originally it was just a continuation of their chapter, but than my own style came out and I wanted to kind of just make it more in depth and idk this is what happened! I have a little more written, but i didn't even know if anyone would like this in my style. But hey let me know what you think? Thank you!! <3


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